Three Comedies Part 43

Nordan. Suppose I did?

Svava. Is father not that, too?

Nordan. Your father a good woman?

Svava. Why do you try to turn it off with a joke?

Nordan. Because it is serious, confound it all!

Svava. Can I not believe father--?

Nordan. Hush!

Svava. Father?--Is it possible that he too--? Do people say that?

(NORDAN does not answer, and does not move.) Shameful! Impossible! I say it is impossible! (Rushes out. RIIS comes in from the right.)

Riis. What is the matter with Svava?

Nordan (coming forward). There was nothing else for it.

Riis. Nothing else for it? What do you mean?

Nordan. No, devil take it!--there was nothing else for it.

Riis. Quite so--but what?

Nordan. What do you say?

Riis. No, what were you saying--?

Nordan. What was I saying?

Riis. You said there was nothing else for it. You alarm me.

Nordan. Do I? Then you did not hear right. (Moves away from him.)

Riis. Didn't hear right? You were swearing about it too!

Nordan. That I certainly did not.

Riis. Very well then, you didn't. But how did you get on with Svava?

Won't you answer me?

Nordan. How did I get on with Svava?

Riis. Why are you so preoccupied? Are things so bad, then?

Nordan. Preoccupied? Why should I be that?

Riis. You ought to know best. I was asking about Svava--how you got on with Svava--and I think I have the right to know.

Nordan. Look here, Riis.

Riis. Yes? (NORDAN takes him by the arm.) What is it?

Nordan. Did you see Svava?

Riis. Hurrying away out through the park? Yes. My dear chap, what was it?

Nordan. It was the Greek tragedy.

Riis. The Greek--?

Nordan. Only the name--only the name! Well, you know what the word means, don't you?

Riis. The Greek--?

Nordan. No, no--not "Greek," but "tragedy"?

Riis. Something mournful--?

Nordan. Far from it! Something amusing! It came to Greece with the worship of Dionysus, in whose train there was a goat--

Riis (draws his arm away). A goat? What on earth--?

Nordan. Yes, you may well be surprised--because it sang!

Riis. Sang?

Nordan. Yes--and is still singing, of course! And paints! There are pictures by him in every exhibition. And works in bronze and marble!

Wonderful! And such a courtier as he is, too! It is he that designs ball-dresses and arranges entertainments--

Riis. Have you gone raving mad?

Nordan. Why do you ask that?

Riis. I am waiting patiently here till you have done talking such d.a.m.ned nonsense! We are accustomed to something of the sort when you are in one of those humours, but to-day I can't understand a blessed word of what you are saying.

Nordan. Don't you, my dear fellow?

Riis. Can you not tell me what my daughter said? Isn't it ridiculous that I cannot get that out of you! Now, briefly and intelligibly, what did she say?

Nordan. Do you want to know?

Riis. He asks that!

Nordan. She said she pitied all the innocent young girls that, generation after generation, disappear--